


Dirty

by cadkitten



Category: Deathstroke (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Cock & Ball Torture, Come as Lube, Gunshot Wounds, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Painplay, Older Man/Younger Man, Spit As Lube, Stitches, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6706642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their eyes met for an instant before Jason took the time to study the rest of the man in front of him, his gaze sliding over his white hair and across the strong lines of his jaw. His hand lingered perhaps too long on the bandage he'd taped onto his leg, his vision traveling down over Slade's muscular structure and lower, scanning over his thighs and then stealing a glance toward the rather obvious press of his cock against the thin material of his shorts. It struck Jason then that he was no longer looking at Slade like the man he'd tried to kill or even the man he'd tried to help. But rather as someone on equal enough footing that he wanted to show him his whole damn world, even knowing not even half enough to be hedging into this the way he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> I'm weak when it comes to these two... so weak.  
> Beta: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Sick Like Me" by In This Moment

Jason leaned against the wall inside the small two-bed room - he couldn't bring himself to call it a bedroom seeing as how it was all concrete and mattresses on the floor - regarding Slade as he stripped out of his armor. Piece by piece, he watched it come away, revealing all the damage he'd taken over the past few days. Three gunshot wounds from Jason himself, a healing snakebite wound, and numerous stab wounds. Angry purple and black bruises littered Slade's shins and forearms, places Jason himself was used to having bruised up.

The last piece of Slade's armor slid off, the material landing on the edge of the mattress. Blood was crusted over most of the wounds, though the one on his back was still dripping; Jason couldn't help but wince at the sight of it. Taking in a deep breath, he reached up, pulled his own helmet off, setting it aside and unhooking pieces of his armor in the most efficient manner, letting it all slide to the floor at the foot of his own mattress. Once he was down to something a bit more comfortable, he made his way over, snagging the bottle of alcohol and moving around behind Slade, kneeling on the mattress. "Suck it up, man... bringing the pain." He snatched a cloth from the bed and put it below the wound, tilting the bottle and pouring the liquid over the wound.

Slade sucked in a breath and Jason gave a dark chuckle. "You know, you'd think for people who got shot and stabbed regularly we'd be able to take the pain of alcohol on a wound much better than we do." He thought back to the last blade he'd had shoved into his leg and how damn much that had hurt when he'd cleaned it out. A small shiver rushed up his spine at the memory of the feeling.

Giving it another good douse, he set the bottle back where Slade could use it for his arm and began to clean the wound up a bit more with the cloth. "It's going to take a while on this one. Honestly think you'd be better off if we stitch it up." The kit was pushed back toward him and Jason took it as an affirmation to go ahead and do whatever he felt best on this one. Ditching the cloth to the side, he opened the kit and rummaged around until he found the appropriate materials, threading the needle and then setting to work, pinching the wound shut and closing it up. 

When he was done, he used a few butterfly bandages to keep it pinched together harder and then applied the gauze and tape over the top of it. He wiped up the bit of blood that had run down from it and then pushed himself up, coming around to drop to his knees on the floor in front of Slade, reaching for his arm and examining the two wounds there. The first, he just added a bandage to, Slade obviously having cleaned it up already. The second, he dabbed at for a while before feeling better about it and wrapping it up as well. One of the gunshots was already closing up, the other two still open, but all of them clean-through shots, something Jason aimed for when he was working without the intent to kill.

His fingers danced over Slade's skin without pause, without further interaction on the subject, his thoughts taking off with him. He mulled over how he'd allowed his compassion over Slade's daughter to draw him to his side, how he'd decided to use his free time to help... and even more how he'd been manipulated into seeing Bruce and how damn much that had hurt.

With a shudder, he eased on another piece of tape over the square of gauze he was holding down against Slade's skin, heaving out a quiet little sigh when he was done. Sitting back on his heels, he flicked his gaze up to Slade's face, finding him watching him. Their eyes met for an instant before Jason took the time to study the rest of the man in front of him, his gaze sliding over his white hair and across the strong lines of his jaw. His hand lingered perhaps too long on the bandage he'd taped onto his leg, his vision traveling down over Slade's muscular structure and lower, scanning over his thighs and then stealing a glance toward the rather obvious press of his cock against the thin material of his shorts. It struck Jason then that he was no longer looking at Slade like the man he'd tried to kill or even the man he'd tried to help. But rather as someone on equal enough footing that he wanted to show him his whole damn world, even knowing not even half enough to be hedging into this the way he was.

He took in a deep breath and let himself look back up into Slade's eyes, finding his pupils dilated and his attention absolute. He _knew_. There was no way he didn't with the way he was staring at him. Knew where his thoughts were carrying him, knew what this white-hot feeling boiling up inside of him was... and maybe even wanted it. Or at least wanted to encourage it.

Jason moved to push himself up. Slade's hand caught his arm before he'd gotten more than an inch and tugged him back down, hard onto his knees. His hand came out automatically, resting against Slade's thigh to steady himself and not pitch forward onto him with how hard his knees struck. Still not a single word was spoken and Jason could feel the thrill of what was _possible_ burning low in his abdomen; excitement picking up harshly. 

Sliding his tongue out, Jason slowly dragged it over his bottom lip, letting a certain amount of defiant amusement hedge into his expression as he started to push himself back up. Both of Slade's hands landed on his shoulders and in an instant, his legs were out from under him and he was free-falling toward the mattress. He caught himself and rolled onto his back, bringing open arm up to press across Slade's broad chest, though he let his legs fall open in wordless invitation, his hips rolling once. He watched Slade's focus shift and then watched the gloriousness of his hunger work its way across his face. 

Within seconds, Slade's hands were on his hips, grasping the waistband of his pants and tugging them down, not even bothering with getting them all the way off. Jason arched, his breath huffing out of him as he reached up, one hand holding onto Slade's shoulder as he let his hips roll one more time. Their eyes met and he could see the question there, _feel_ the hesitation in the air. With a knowing little smirk, he gave a single nod of his head, providing his consent of whatever was about to happen. Because he didn't care _what_ it was, as long as it was _something_.

Slade shifted closer to him, pushing his legs up, trapping him with his costume pants around his thighs, pushing them tight together as Slade laid them over one shoulder, leaning in hard against them, forcing Jason's legs back. Slade spit in his hand and reached down, freeing his own cock and smearing it with his saliva, repeating the lewd action two more times before he shifted himself against Jason's legs, slowly sliding his cock between his thighs, easing out a groan of satisfaction. He gave a few good pumps, enough to speed up Jason's heart, leave him feeling heady over what was happening to him; the uniqueness of the situation. He'd never once had someone fuck themselves between his thighs and hell if he'd _expected_ this from Slade. And he'd be damned if it wasn't turning him on something awful, his own cock heavy against his lower abdomen. 

"Tell me... are you usually into older men?" The question was built to be dirty, perhaps demeaning in a way. But it only made Jason grin, freed a laugh from his chest as he rolled his hips and clamped his thighs tighter together. Something defiant sparkled in his eyes as he stared up at Slade from under his lowered lashes and a darkness crept up, threatening to free itself for the first time a _years_. "You have _no_ idea." The response was breathed out on the edge of a moan, issued as he rolled his hips with one of Slade's thrusts, the tip of his cock pressing against Slade's for an instant, leaving him breathless, his eyes rolling back in his head as he tried a few more times, unsuccessfully.

Slade tightened his arm around Jason's legs, urging Jason into clenching the muscles as he worked himself between them, hips pumping quickly. 

Jason shivered under the onslaught of pleasure, still grasping at his own thoughts in some amount of confusion over why his felt so damn good when it wasn't stimulating the most nerve-rich places in his body. Maybe it was how dirty it was... or maybe it was just that he was fucking a man nearly three times his age. The thought had him sucking in air and he nearly laughed at himself, arching under Slade's body, trembling as his cock strained away from his body for an instant. They brushed against one another and Jason let out the most pitiful of sounds, his hands finding purchase on the mattress, grasping the thin sheet and squeezing hard enough the muscles in his arms stood out. His back arched ever so faintly and he could feel the way Slade pushed against him faster, thrust his cock between his thighs in a manner that told him he was trying to get off.

Easing a bit, Jason looked down, watched the head of his dick push just barely past his thighs on each forward thrust; could see how his thighs were glistening with precum and saliva. Hell if it didn't make the best damn image he'd ever seen while having sex. Easing himself up onto one elbow, he licked his thumb and then reached to slide it over the head of his own cock and then pressed his slicked digit against the head of Slade's cock each time he thrust forward. 

It was only a few minutes more before Slade was coming unglued. Jason watched his face then, the way his eyelids fell closed and the slackness of his jaw as he pounded himself against Jason's body, thrusting his cock as quick as he could into his makeshift fuck-hole. And God did it ever look _so_ sinful. He licked his lips again, moving his thumb and clenching his thighs once more. A few more thrusts and then Slade was coming undone, his thrusts more powerful and longer, the tip of his cock growing steadily redder. When it happened, it was like glory had been thrown at Jason. Two full thrusts and a pause and then thick spurts of cum were splashing over his cock and his hip.

Jason let out a moan, reaching down and sliding his hand through the mess then grasping his cock and starting to stroke, his hips arching up hard as he moaned out the dirtiest version of, "Slade," he could manage, hearing the older man groan in return. And _fuck_ did that ever set him off. In an instant, he was humping against his hand, using Slade as leverage as he worked himself toward orgasm. 

Slade's hand came down to cup his sac, just holding onto it lightly as he stroked himself and Jason couldn't stop the pathetic-sounding whine that left him or the way he threw his head back and _panted_ for breath he'd had just a second ago. The pressure increased just the smallest amount and Jason nearly snarled out, " _Yes_ ," as he tightened his grip on his cock. Slade gripped him hard enough he ached and it was both agony and delicious _sin_. How the hell Slade had known - could have known - Jason didn't know and, frankly, didn't care. He rocked his hips, his arm moving fast enough his muscles were trying to seize up on him. 

Finally, blessedly, it was happening and Jason forced his head up to watch as he began to cum, watching as he added to the mess on his abdomen, aiming to cover the slick streaks left behind from Slade's offering. Shuddering, he flopped back onto the mattress, sliding his hand up from his cock to rub through the combined mess, easing it back down over his cock with a startled little sound before he huffed out a quiet laugh, letting the euphoria of a good orgasm take him over. 

Slade eased back enough to get hold of his costume pants, pulling them back up and meeting Jason's eyes as he slid them right up over the mess, letting the material press down against it all as Jason moved his hand out of the way. Something danced in the depths of his gaze as he did it and Jason found himself all-out grinning up at him. "Oh, you're _dirty_ ," he breathed out.

Standing up, Slade eased his own clothing back into place and regarded Jason with a quirked eyebrow. "Looks to me like _you're_ the one who's dirty there, Hood."

Something inside of Jason freed itself and when the huff of a laugh came bubbling up, he let it out, just closing his eyes and lying there, feeling lighter than he had in _years_. Bruce had always told him good things sometimes came in the most unexpected packages and though he'd been talking about books, Jason was sure it could apply to this. Either way, he had a feeling this wasn't the last time he'd be working alongside Deathstroke and he'd be damned if it wasn't going to end like this _every single time_.


End file.
